Still There For Me
by iluvjb4ever123
Summary: Demi's hurting and Taylor's there to help pick up the broken pieces and glue her back together again. Taylor Launter and Demi Lovato. Temi one-shot.


He shuffled down the hall of the small house, pushing her door open slightly. The breeze blew past him and he shivered involuntarily; he opened the door wider, the smell of narcotics flaring up his nostrils instantly. His eyes wandered around the darkened room over to the mess of sheets atop the bed.

His hand moved along the wall, feeling for the light switch; he clicked it on and cringed as the room illuminated in front of him. His eyes moved around again and stopped at the sight of Demi's left leg sticking out of her comforter, "Demi." He sighed.

She whimpered loudly in the sheets, her chest heaving up and down rapidly as the sobs ripped through her throat, making it difficult for her to draw another breath out. The blankets were beginning to suffocate her—but she didn't really care anymore.

He removed the blankets away from her body, watching her writhe around, trying to shield her body of the piercing cold. He kneeled down in front of her, his hands running along her cheeks as he took away her tears, "Demi." He whispered again.

She coughed, choking on her own saliva. She moved her head away from his touch, curling herself more into the fetal position, "g-go aw-way!" She screamed, her voice hoarse and dry. Her body shook more violently as she bit down on her lip; she could already taste the blood slowly enter her mouth.

"Stop it," he scolded lowly. He stood up again, walking over to the window, slamming it shut with one hard push. His hand flew to his hair as he tugged at the ends, staring at the broken girl crying hysterically on her bed.

"I want to d-die, Taylor… K-kill me…" Her body shook more with each ragid breath she inhaled.

"Don't say that," he muttered. His feet shuffled across the wooden floorboard, his sneakers scuffing against the hardwood. He pushed everything off of the soiled bed and sat down next to her, pulling her shaking body close to his. "What happened?" He was afraid of what she would say.

"They left," her voice was emotionless; almost dead as she spoke.

"Who left?" He was confused with her response. He slid his hand through her tangled locks, trying to smooth out the knots with his large fingers.

She closed her eyes tighter, the tears slipping from her eyes and onto his t-shirt, "my p-parents," she whispered softly.

"When?!" He felt enraged. "How long have you been left here, Demi? Is that why you won't answer my phone calls anymore?!"

"You never picked up!" She argued breathlessly. She coughed continuously, her breaths coming out more as wheezes. She swallowed back the lump that had formed in her throat, her hand flying over her mouth as her coughs sounded more and more venomous.

He patted her back gently, trying to ease her pain a little; he reached over to the side table for the bottled water when her frozen hand stopped him.

She shook her head, pointing a shaky finger toward the corner of her bedroom—to a box of Budlight. She was having those binges again; she needed something in her system before everything got worse.

"There's no way in hell," he seethed.

Her coughing continued and soon red liquid had fallen onto her shaking hands.

"Demi!" He said, growing scared and concerned for her. He moved her back down onto her pillow and stood up, panicking. "Please drink this," he practically begged, urging the bottle of water into her hands.

She shook her head, refusing anything that Taylor was offering her.

He popped the lid off of the lid and threw it carelessly onto the floor, not really caring where it went at the moment; he practically pried her mouth open, placing the mouth of the bottle to hers, tipping it a little, so that the liquid could flow into her mouth.

She allowed the cold liquid to splash against the back of her throat, relieving her from the burning sensation. She could finally breathe correctly again; she moved the bottle away from her face, her eyes casted downward, her dampened hair framing her face.

He set the bottle steadily back onto the table, his eyes never leaving stature, "do you feel better now?" He asked inaudibly.

"No," she answered bluntly, the tears reappearing in her darkened orbs again. "I don't think I'll ever be okay again… They left m-me here, to feign for m-my own well-b-being, Taylor. They abandoned me, leaving me isolated with myself in this hell-hole… Do you know w-what I wanted to do?" She asked quietly.

"No…" he answered lowly.

"I wanted to kill myself." She murmured simply. "I wanted to bring that knife to my throat and just kill just end my life, but I couldn't… I was too afraid; I was afraid to feel how death feels…"

He felt his own tears welling up in his eyes, listening her say those things killed him inside. Just staring at her, he could feel the pain and hurt radiate off of her and transfer over to his own body. That's what he wanted to happen though; he wanted to take the pain away from her. Anything to have that smile reappear on her face again, "Demi…" he choked out.

"I've cut myself fifty times since they've left." She admitted blankly.

His hand immediately landed on her arm, pushing the sleeve of her shirt upward in one slight motion, watching her wince a little as the fabric came in contact with her fresh cuts. His eyes pained, looking at the red slashes drawn up and down her arm, "why would you do this?" He closed his eyes, shaking his head repeatedly.

"Because I wanted to die!" She yanked her arm away from him, cringing at the pain that she had forced upon herself, "what part of that don't you understand?" She whispered, her mouth going dry again. "You wouldn't answer your phone calls. Selena and Miley hate me; I had no one else to go to!" She yelled, wet, angry tears rolling down her burning cheeks.

"I'm sorry, okay? My phone died and—and I should've known something was wrong when you hadn't been showing up at school. I should've came over to visit you earlier." His hand flew to his hair and he began to tug at the ends again, "I'm sorry Demi, for not being here when you needed me to be, but I'm here now and I'm not going to leave you, okay? I'm not going to leave you."

She broke down again, quiet whimpers leaving her mouth as she brought her hands up to her eyes, rubbing her knuckles hard against them.

He sat there, feeling helpless; he shook his head and grabbed her arm gently and held her to him again, "I'm so sorry, Demi," he whispered into her ear, "I'm so sorry…"

She shook her head repeatedly, finally giving up in pushing him away; she wrapped her arms around his body, letting herself breakdown even more.

--

He pushed the plate of food toward her again, "eat." He ordered.

"I'm not really hungry." She pushed the plate back towards him again, keeping her eyes down on the counter.

"Demi, you haven't eaten all morning and you can't lie to me because I was here when you woke up," he scowled. "Eat please?" He sighed.

She shook her head to the side, "you can't force someone to eat when they don't want to, Taylor." She answered blandly; her voice was low and emotionless.

"Well, you sort of have to when their friend is as thin as a twig and looks like she could snap in half any moment now," he responded as he pushed the plate of waffles towards her again. "Doesn't this even look good to you?" He wondered.

She wrinkled her nose at the smell of freshly made waffles, the smell of the sweet syrup that was drizzled on top; the smell of it all made her want to do nothing, but gag. Her stomach began to churn and she averted her eyes away from Taylor and the plate of food, "no."

He sighed once more, "fine." He pulled the plate in front of himself and took a bite out of the waffle, "can I get you a glass of milk or something?" He asked while he chewed.

"No and I'd like it if you closed your mouth when you chewed," her face expression showed nothing, but disgust as she watched him.

"You have to eat something, Demi." He was growing aggravated with her responses.

She leaned over the counter slightly, pulling a piece of sliced strawberries that Taylor had placed on top of the waffles; she brought it to her mouth and ate it, finding it difficult for her to keep one little piece of food down in her stomach. It had been so long since she had actually eaten something that this little thing made her stomach upset.

"A slice of strawberry? Really?" He rolled his eyes at her.

"It's still something!" She said defensively.

He placed his hands up, "sorry, didn't mean for you to get all worked about it…"

She slumped down in her seat again, "I want to go back to my house, Taylor… I hate how your mom looks at me when I walk by. She won't stop staring at me…" she said quietly.

"I can't let you go back like this, Demi," he said sternly. "And screw my mom, you already know she has staring problems," he muttered quietly when he heard his mom shuffle into the kitchen.

She brought her eyes down onto the dress that Taylor had forced her to wear since she had moved in with him, her fingertips running along the flowery designs and patterns across her thigh; she peeked up from the corner of her eyes, seeing Taylor watching her with a confused expression, "can I be excused?"

"Yeah," he nodded and watched Demi shuffle awkwardly out of her seat and toward the bathroom; he sighed, taking a seat where she had been sitting, continuing to munch on the now, cold waffle. He propped his chin onto his palm, "I wish you would just let me help you…"

Fade…

She locked the door behind herself and quickly began to search the contents of the guest bathroom; she rummaged through the door, trying to find a razor, but she knew Taylor had cleaned everything out for her own well-being. She ran her hands through her hair, tugging hard at the roots; she wanted to cry so badly right now, but Taylor would know something was wrong.

She closed the draw softly and sat herself on top of the toilet seat, her face in her hands as she breathed in and out deeply, trying to keep her breath even. She ran her thumb up and down the disappearing scars; she then, dug her fingernail deep into her skin, wincing a little, but enjoying the sensation of pain at the same time.

After about 5 minutes, her arm was covered in fresh welts; she walked over to the sink, running her arm under some cold water. She walked out of the bathroom and back into the living room, taking a seat across from Taylor.

He stood up and walked over to her, "let me see," he held his hand out.

She looked at him with scared eyes, but followed his command anyways, slowly raising her arm for him to examine. She felt herself shrink into her seat even farther.

"You promised," he said lowly.

"At least it wasn't with a razor…" she said nonchalantly.

"You still inflicted physical pain on yourself!" He yelled, letting go of her arm.

She shriveled back into her shell again, "I'm sorry," she whispered quietly. She held her arm close to herself and brought her head down in shame, feeling horrible for betraying Taylor once again, "I'm sorry…" she mumbled glumly.

~*~

"Don't apologize," he mumbled bitterly more to himself than to her. He took a seat down on the couch next to Demi's; he grasped onto her arm gently, pulling her over and onto his lap. He wrapped his strong arms securely around her petite, shaking body.

"You're mad…" she whimpered.

"I'm not mad… I'm just a little disappointed," he admitted. "But I know with more time, you'll be able to stop; I know it…" He whispered soothingly into her ear, placing a light peck onto her temple, brushing her hair behind her ear and out of her face.

"What if I can't?" She questioned hoarsely.

"I know you can; you just need to remember let me in and allow me to help you…" he sighed. "Everyone in this house is here to help you… No one's going to bring you down anymore, Demi. I won't let them…"

"My parents already brought me down far enough," she stated quietly, burying her face into the nape of Taylor's neck.

"I know they did, but I'm going to try my best to build you back up again. I'm not going to give up until I do so," he glanced down at her, "okay?"

"Okay," she answered lowly.

--

"Give it back to me, Demetria," he growled, failing to keep his tone calm towards Demi.

She gripped the pair of scissors tightly in her hand, feeling it start to throb a little, "no." She told him adamantly.

"Demi!" He hollered, lunging towards her; he pinned her down against his bed, prying the sharp object out of her hand and throwing it across the room.

"Why won't you leave me alone?!" She yelled in his face, her cheeks rosy with frustration and annoyance.

"Because I care, god damnit!" He yelled back, his chest heaving up and down rapidly against her. The two of them just staring hard into each other's eyes; he pushed himself off of her, shaking his head, "you aren't even trying anymore," he spat at her sadly.

"There really isn't a point in trying anymore, Taylor. I've been trying for the past two weeks and it only makes me feel worse!" She burst into tears, "can you just let me die, so I can stop going through all of this bullshit?!" She asked the angry tears rolling down her cheeks and onto her pants. "I don't want to be here anymore…" she whispered.

He slammed his fist against his wall in anger, "stop saying that!" He croaked out, aggravated. "Do you know how much that kills me inside to hear you say that, Demi? I don't want you to say that anymore…" he leaned his head onto the wall, fresh teardrops spilling down his cheeks.

She fell over onto his comforter, feeling her heart hurt more when she heard him cry quietly, "I'm sorry…" she murmured, squeezing her eyes tightly, her arms clutching tightly around her knees, hugging them closely to her chest. It seemed like the only thing she could do right was apologize to him; apologize for causing him so much pain and frustration.

She awoke suddenly, feeling her throat closing on her; she covered her mouth and began to cough violently, awaking the guy that was sound asleep beside her. She unlocked herself out of his strong grasp, not really bothering that he could've still been mad at her from earlier; she covered her mouth with both her hands, continuing to cough, her throat began to burn as the coughs came out as wheezes.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her up and carrying her into his bathroom in a bridal position; he sat her down next to the white porcelain bowl, his hands holding her long, dark locks as she began to dispose herself of the contents in her already empty stomach, "how are you even throwing up right now?" He wondered quietly when he dropped his hand onto her back and rubbed it gently.

"Go away," she struggled, but managed to get herself up, leaning herself onto the bathroom counter.

"I'm not—"

"Go!" She pointed shakily toward the door, "I just want to be alone, Taylor… please." She gulped back a few tears, gripping her hands tightly around the counter.

He stared at her for a moment before obeying her command, walking out of the bathroom. He cringed when the sound of the door slammed closed behind him; he slid down the door and leaned his back onto it, listening to her cry quietly on the other side, "I said to let me in, Demi…" he mumbled inaudibly to himself.

She leaned her head against the wall, fresh tears rolling her cheeks; she brought her up to her eyes and wiped them away, her breathing ragid and short; she was fighting to stop fighting, but the more she tried, the more that came out and soon, she grew aggravated with herself understanding why Taylor had broken down earlier that day, "I need to try… for him," she mumbled incoherently to herself. "For him…"

--

After failing to get Demi to come out of her room; he heard the doorbell ring and sighed, walking down the stairs quickly to answer the person at the door. He cracked the front door open a bit, his eyes widening a little in surprise, "uhm, what are you doing here?" He questioned.

"I heard Demi has been staying here…" she eyed the built teen standing in front of her, "or has everyone just been spreading more rumors?"

"Why are you here, Selena?" he wondered in a bit of annoyance, "I think you've done enough to Demi lately." He spat at her.

"Just let me go talk to her," she muttered. "I'm trying to be a bigger person and be there for her like I used to me, so let me in!"

"You talk to her like that, don't think I won't be afraid to take you out of my house, myself." He threatened, opening the door even wider, allowing the dark-haired girl to come in. "Don't fucking upset her."

"I'm not going to," she shot back, glaring at him.

"Upstairs, 2nd door to the right."

"Thank you." She said as she slowly made her way up the stairs, her stomach beginning to bubble up in anxiety. She noticed the door opened ajar and her feet slowly dragged her across the carpeted floor and over to the small opening. She peered inside, seeing Demi lying across the bed, her arms wrapped around herself in a protective way. Her eyes grew bigger at the sight of how skinny and pale she looked. She slowly pushed the door opened a little wider, watching the way Demi suddenly jerked up.

"What do you want?" She asked in an icy tone, her eyes darkening.

"I want to be here for you, Demi. To be your best friend again…"

"Go away," she said, her voice growing stronger. "You had your chance to be there for me, but you walked away… walked away like everyone else in my life. It's like you all planned this, waiting for me to fall and hit the ground, then not bother to help me back up to my feet again. You walked out of my life as if it were nothing to begin with…"

"Demi--" she tried.

"Don't start the bullshit with me, Selena! I'm just sick and tired of people saying that they're always going to be there for, there when I need someone to talk to, when I need a shoulder to cry on and then they leave me falling flat on my face." She croaked out.

"What did you expect me to do, Demi?! You were pushing me away. Every little thing I tried, it made you shelter yourself away from me even more. Then, I got sick of it. I got tired of always trying to help you when you didn't even bother to listen, so don't even think about blaming me… You never told me about your family problems! You never gave me the chance to help you out… I had to ask around and hope people didn't lie to me."

"Whatever, I'll take the blame. It's always my fault anyways."

"There you go again, Demi. You don't even want to try, so what's the point right? Look at yourself! You're practically killing yourself right now! What good is that going to do? Show your parents that they've won?" She wondered.

She just shrugged her sharp shoulders, looking down at her fragile hands.

"You say they left you, but you're not proving to them a reason why they shouldn't. You're supposed to be happy they're gone; especially after all the shit they put you through… Abuse: emotionally, physically, and verbally. Why are you being this way when you can be so much better? When you can be the girl I first became friends with?"

"I don't know…" she finally broke down again at Selena's words. She knew she was right, but she was too stubborn to admit so. "They've broken me down so much to the point where all I can feel is pain, Selena. How can someone be happy after they've been broken apart so many times?!" She yelled at her, feeling herself break apart all over again.

"You use all that pain and tell yourself that you deserve to smile. That you deserve to be happy after all they've put you through. Taylor and I are going to be here to help you get through it because no matter how alone you feel on the inside, on the outside, you'll never be alone. Never, Demi."

She shook her head again, "I can't do this anymore…"

"Yes, you can damnit!" She yelled. She was beginning to grow aggravated, but she knew she had to get through to Demi before she left this house. "You deserve to be here alive right now, Demi. So, instead of sitting around and moping like a whiny little girl, why don't you attempt to make your life better? For me? For Taylor? For YOURSELF."

"Okay…" she murmured. "Okay…" she repeated quietly, her eyes casted down at the bed sheets. She finally looked up at Selena, her dark eyes meeting her soft brown ones; she finally saw how much Selena had really cared about her and about her safety.

A week later…

She and Taylor were seated on the couch, watching television in the living room. She hadn't noticed Taylor's arm wind around her waist until she looked down and saw his tight grasp. "Can you please move your hands?" She wondered, trying to pull herself away.

"Nope," he replied, continued to hum humorously as he watched her try to squeeze her way out, "plus where do you need to go anyways?"

"I don't know, to get something to eat?" She said with a shrug.

"Really?!" He practically sprung out of his seat, pulling her up with him.

"Geez!" She giggled again.

His eyes were wide in surprise with how she was acting, "am I dreaming right now?" He asked, feeling delusional.

"No!" She whacked him across the bicep. "Gosh," she shook her head a little, a smile playing across her features.

A wide smile spread across his flawless face, "what has gotten into you?" He wondered happily.

"I got some pretty good advice the other day… What's the point in begin depressed when I can be happy spending time with you?" She said.

"I see that you and Selena are good again right?" He asked and Demi nodded. "I'm glad," he murmured.

She absentmindedly stood on her tippy-toes and placed her lips on top of his, surprising the two of them with the kiss, "thank you for always being there for me even when I tell you not to be…" she whispered when she pulled away.

"Don't expect me to be walking out of your life anytime soon…" he murmured back.


End file.
